Northern Lights
by phel-from-grace
Summary: "From the moment he stepped out of his headquarters, leaving behind the mask of Amon, he should have expected that anything could happen and he would just have to bend with the situation..." Canon setting, at the end of episode 1, Korra spends a memorable night with a mysterious waterbender.
1. Part 1

**[NORTHERN LIGHTS**] part 1

_"La nuit, le ciel est plus grand." _

* * *

An orange hue filters into the city's skyline as the sun delivers its last rays of the day, but the body of water that borders this urban landscape retains its signature shade of blue, albeit with flecks of shimmering gold that flicker like embers in his pale crystalline eyes. At the foot of Aang Memorial, he stands by the pier to observe this wondrous sight, watching the light bounce over the surface of the cool expanse, breathing in deeply the scent of sea salt and nostalgia. For a moment, he remembers his distant past, his homeland faraway, his nearly-forgotten birthname. And in that same instant, the calm ripples of the seascape escalate into sets of waves that match the increasing tempo of his usually tame heart. It's his doing— he's bending the water subconsciously— yet somehow, it doesn't disgust him, even after years of repressing and denigrating his innate ability.

He would normally only allow himself a split second of negligence, and he would quell the urge with a simple hardening of his mind, but tonight remained a special case. It's not that he's being persuaded by dormant emotions, and although the gentle breeze caressing his naked face does feel like a blessing, he is neither swayed by the temptations of Mother Nature. Tonight was different for one simple reason: the Avatar had officially announced their arrival and the wheels of his Equalist movement had consequently accelerated. From hereon, he would be working around the clock, surrounded by his followers at all times, stripped completely from any semblance of privacy despite his anonymous appearance. And if all went according to plan, _bending _would be purged, completely wiped away like the faded remnants of his childhood.

Just for one night, as formal closure to an already dying memory, he decided to drop the armour, hide the mask, and erase the scars. With stealth that could mock the spirits, he had slipped away from his headquarters, temporarily leaving behind his role as leader of the revolution. Amon was placed on hold. Because only for tonight, Noatak would surface once more.

His fist clenches and the water squeezes into a ball, hovering above the waves and waiting for its master's next command. Only an intake of breath is needed for the liquid to rush to his side like a faithful servant; it floats in the air patiently while he removes his shabby tunic so that he could move with more ease, savouring the warmth of the setting sun against his once-tanned skin. He then lets it trail over his bare broad shoulders, glide down the arch of his spine and curl around to his front with a brush of its slick texture against tensed muscles. Oh Spirits, he really _really _hates bending, but he can't deny its exhilarating sensation. It felt like a release, similar to a holy man indulging in his primal needs; he could live without it, heck, he has and _will_ _continue _to live without it, but it never changed the fact that it felt so good. Just like sin.

* * *

Her feet dangle over the ledge by the water, fidgeting from pent-up excitement and ready to sprout into action. She is grateful that Tenzin finally let her stay in Republic City to complete her airbending training, but she wishes that her temporary abode wasn't so secluded from the rest of the population. Those energetic children certainly kept her busy, and the Air Temple was indeed a lovely environment— serene, peaceful, detached from the hustle and bustle of the city— but Korra had experienced quite the adventure on her first day and she was itching to explore more. The sun had barely finish setting, yet the inhabitants of this island were already getting ready for bed; she was probably expected to follow suit, but she simply could not shake off the nerves dancing in her gut.

She knows that she _shouldn't _sneak out, but something catches her attention in the distance, right by the neighboring island. Her senses pick up a slight disturbance in the natural flow of the water, and when she squints her vision, she can distinctly see heightened waves surrounding the pier. Someone is probably bending, and she wants to get a closer look.

A few minutes wouldn't hurt. The islands weren't that far from one another, and she could easily swim there in no time. It was the perfect opportunity to expel that excess energy because if she didn't get rid of it, she might not get a wink of slumber all night, or so she convinces herself. Without an ounce of guilt, she dives into the sea and jets off to quench her curiosity.

* * *

He refuses to believe that he is a hypocrite for enjoying this activity because he _knows _that it is nothing but temptation and sin. Maybe he was weak, those muscles easily giving into the urge by the influence of nostalgia— not that bending was any particularly pleasant in his childhood, but it was a mechanical instinct and at least his _mind_ did not betray his integrity. His body, on the other hand, was simply out of control. It wasn't his fault that the environment was bending by _itself:_ if the water wanted to fly its way to him like a magnet, he couldn't possibly be at fault for _its _doing. Therefore, he stays firm with his beliefs that bending is evil, since he can no longer discern reality from illusion as time and space drift away at every drop of water that rushes to his side.

Korra couldn't have made a better decision. The daunting waves are surprisingly easy to overcome because they seem to be drawn to Aang Memorial, or rather, to the figure that's wielding the element. She lets the current pull her in, and when the edge of the island comes into plain view, she bends a turret to propel herself onto the rocky surface where she eagerly searches for the source of this commotion. Just like the current, the path only leads to one direction. Her heart hammers into her chest at every heavy step she takes, until she finally finds herself by the pier, at a modest distance from the answer to her query.

A majestic sight awaits her, and she feels her mouth dry up, either from her slackened jaw hanging open for too long, or due to every drop of water being sapped away from her tingling tongue. Watching in silence, her limbs paralysed in awe, she lets the stimuli invade every inch of her heightened senses as she breathes in this fascinating creature's aura.

He glides in the air as if he was made of mist, the water following him like a shadow, and she cannot understand how a mortal being could possibly move like that. Those fluid gestures seemed too divine, hypnotic and supernatural, like she was witnessing the work of a Spirit. But what really captivated and nearly frightened her was his control over the element: it doesn't only follow his movements, but the entire sea seems to be affected by his presence. His chi was nearly palpable, like claws grasping tightly at her skin, digging right down to her bones, shaking her core and dragging her into this insane version of harmony with nature.

It didn't help that he was attractive on a physical point of view, from the pure visuals he had to offer. With dark hair flowing from the breezy rush, face framed with clean-cut sideburns and a chiselled jaw filled with charisma, there was no denying his fine features that could catch her attention under normal circumstances. It could be a trick of the dimming daylight, but he also seemed to be radiating under the effect of sparkling water dancing around his frame, further accentuating the lines of his toned muscles that flex at every exerting step.

How old was he, she wonders. She really could not guess, but he was definitely a _man_, and not a mere boy. The very concept makes her cheeks grow hot, utterly embarrassed by her train of thought; just what was she implying through that statement? She isn't sure, and the uncertainly leaves her peeved. He was enticing in all the ways she had not felt before— sure she had been infatuated with the opposite sexe, but never to the point of this visceral attraction. Whether it was from the suffocating feeling that she experiences from his bending, or from the sheer power of his life force dominating its surroundings, she feels her own blood pump in excitement, like she _wanted _to be another pawn to his command.

And where did he come from? Despite the relative pallor of his complexion, he must be from the Water Tribe if he could bend like this. If only his eyes were open, she might get a better indication of his nationality, but they instead remain shut, seemingly relaxed—was that a contented smirk gracing his strong features? In any case, she doubts that he could have earned this technique from the city, since traditional masters usually lived with their natural element, deep with nature, and he _must _have had to learn from the best. Maybe he could teach her some moves...

She doesn't want to break his concentration, but she grows tired of standing by the sidelines and she wants to be part of the fun. Her legs finally wake up, but she was never one to be known for her grace, so her presence becomes obvious with rather loud footsteps that approach the dock.

Immediately, his eyes snap open— the palest tint of blue, wide and alarmed like he had just been caught committing a crime. The water that he was manipulating plummets unceremoniously, drenching his entire body and splashing to the ground with a heavy blow that shatters the silence, breaking the illusion of his divinity.

Realising what she had just done, Korra rushes to apologize. "Oh no, I'm so sor-

He spins vigorously to unbend the water soaking his skin, letting it deliberately fly into her direction to obstruct her vision. He then dashes into the sea without a second glance, and she equally reacts on impulse by diving in after him.

"Slow down! I just want to talk!"

He ignores her calls, or maybe he can't hear her through the loud torrent of bended water. Their race is well matched and Korra loves the challenge. Despite his advantage, she manages to keep up with his pace, tailing behind him at a manageable distance. Useless thoughts no longer plague her mind as she deeply concentrates on the task at hand; she refuses to lose, he is determined to shake her off, and they reach a certain stalemate since neither could go faster than the other.

He doesn't understand this girl— why was she so bent on catching him? He had barely registered her appearance in the split second encounter, but he assumed that she wasn't a person of importance, so she didn't present any danger to his identity. He had fled for the sole reason of avoiding confrontation, mostly on instinct from being caught in the action of bending, since he hated being associated with this shameful act. He simply couldn't stand the thought of someone witnessing his moment of weakness, how he had let the element consume him and vice versa.

But alas, he was exhausted from the overexertion, while she still thrived on her determination to succeed. His energy dissipates, and she slowly closes the distance with every push of her life force until finally, he appears attainable. Her confidence soars. A few more strokes and she will make it, so she pushes beyond the limits of her capacity and propels herself forward with all her might.

With one last stretch, she finally reaches it: her grip firmly latches onto his ankle. He attempts to shake her off with an unfriendly kick and a blast of water, but she clamps on like an anchor and forces him to admit defeat.

Noatak may be proud but he wasn't a sore loser. She had clearly won the race, so he drops to a halt and floats to the surface, catching his breath in silence.

"Whew, what a workout!" she exhales, chest heaving with satisfaction. She averts her gaze towards him, searching for eye contact but only meeting his shifty guilty look. "Ya know, I'm not the police force or some sorta authority that's gonna fine you for trespassing Aang Memorial after visiting hours. I just wanted to talk to you cuz your bending was awesome!"

Her voice was as brash as her actions, sparking a fleeting recognition that he can't quite pinpoint. But it also inspires the sadistic urge to destroy that confidence, to put her in her place, to subdue that infuriating air of friendliness because he wanted nothing to do with this stranger, despite the pretty look she shoots at him or the hint of her lithe body under those wet clothes, the way the fabric clings onto her sturdy collarbone and down to the swell of her chest...

Anyways. Making acquaintances was _not _part of his plan for the night, but he realises that there wasn't much that could be done to remedy the situation. With his energies needing to recuperate, he was stuck in the middle of the sea— or ocean since they strayed very far— with the company of this cocky girl who followed him for reasons unknown. The receding light at least reassured him that the crescent moon was on its way, and the journey back should be easier once the night fully hits. But for the moment, he couldn't escape.

She wonders whether he's mute or just extremely shy, staring into his pale eyes that still refuses to meet her gaze. "So… how did you get practically the whole sea to respond to your movements? It was crazy, like all the water was just drawn to you. I practically felt it in my _blood_."

He winces at the statement and finally makes eye contact, with brows furrowed in irritation. "Nonsense," he snarls, deep voice full of command and inexplicably hostile.

"Whoa there, no need to bite like a tigershark. It was a compliment!"

She is disappointed with this man's attitude, and definitely shocked by the unfriendly treatment. While he was bending, he seemed so open and nearly vulnerable, as he welcomed every droplet of water as part of his being. He had given her such a good feeling, but right now, he was being a grouchy sourpuss and she couldn't even appreciate his handsome face whatwith the frown marring his attractive features. She didn't know what to say… Not that it really mattered; Korra was never good with words anyways. Instead, she expresses her annoyance through her actions.

Bending the water discretely, she hurls a ball to his face. That ought to loosen him up, as the attack comes as a surprise. He chokes on the liquid that went down his throat from the sheer force, looking like the epitome of fury.

"Y-y-you _insolent _little piece of—

Splash. Another ball to his face. He sputters again and she laughs at his reaction, thoroughly enjoying the composure slipping away from his control. With a glare full of revenge, he retaliates by bending a full-out jet that aims to wipe away that childish smug grin. Her reflexes are fast and she manages to dodge it just in time, but he throws another blast that she parries with a shield of water erupting from the once-still surface. The ocean shakes with waves as the two waterbenders brawl playfully. Well, _she_ treats it as amusing, while _he _finds it irritating.

The game picks up when Noatak decides to implement some ice attacks, throwing shards that she blocks with more walls of water. She accepts the challenge by sending equally solid projectiles his way, and the fight escalates to a fiery duel under the last rays of the sun, the ocean coloured in orange and their attacks crackling like flames. But he eventually gains the upperhand with his efficient tactics, bending a sneaky spiral below the surface. It latches onto her ankles, and before she can unbend its bindings, he freezes her surroundings, enclosing her body in a casing of ice that forces her limbs into defeat.

"Do not underestimate me, _miss_."

"The name's Korra, _sir_."

Wait, that name… It's indeed a common Water Tribe name, but mixed with that familiar voice…

And in that same instant, before he can finish making the connection, he receives the answer: _real _fire erupts from her palms, melting his work as the ice cascades back into the ocean with a deafening crash, freeing her limbs and casting him aside.

He doesn't want to believe it. "You're the—

"Yeah. Avatar." She smiles at him smugly and he simply stares back in disbelief.

Spirits, what had he gotten himself into.


	2. Part 2

**[NORTHERN LIGHTS]** part 2

_Translation: "At night, the sky is bigger."_

* * *

Given the choice of fight or flight, he usually favours the latter. But with his muscles nearly quivering in fatigue along with his chi reduced to the level of a non-bender, he could do neither, so he was left with only one option: flow. A pulsing headache already creeps its way to his temples because just the thought of 'going with the flow' conflicts with his usual tendency of meticulous planning and being in control; despite his roots as a waterbender, he was never able to live up to the supposed expectation of having a 'flexible temperament'. After all, he wasn't just _any _waterbender.

He should have seen it coming: from the moment he stepped out of his headquarters, leaving behind the mask of Amon, he should have expected that _anything _could happen and he would just have to _bend _with the situation— all the more reason to hate bending. Karma was simply getting back at him. He had sinned, and he was now receiving his punishment in the form of an infuriating girl with little tact and too much energy.

She continues to flick the water playfully while she flashes that cheeky smile, perhaps waiting for him to further respond, maybe with some praise and awe. Little did she know that he was not a man that would be impressed by her status, but if he was being completely honest, he _did _feel slightly awed; after all, this _was _the first time meeting his legendary adversary.

Information on the Avatar had been very well-hidden, and even with his connections, he had not been able to gather any visual description of her appearance. He was aware that she was young since Avatar Aang passed away seventeen years ago, and he also knew that she lived a sheltered life with the Order of the White Lotus, but it never occurred to him that she would dress in traditional Water Tribe clothing. It shouldn't matter what she wore, but the small details of her hairclips along with the armband around her right bicep reminds him of a distant past. The patterns differ from the North, but it nevertheless remains nostalgic, and he can't quite associate her image with that of the so-called Avatar's. For a moment, he sees her as just an ordinary girl from his hometown.

"So anyway," she says, breaking his thoughts. "I chased after you cuz I wanted to know how you did it. Can you show me how it's done?"

"And by _it_, we are referring to…?"

"Your awesome bending, of course!"

He twitches at the reminder. "Avatar—

"It's _Korra_," she insists.

"Then _Korra_, let me regretfully inform you that my _bending _is not something that can be taught."

"Ya don't know if you don't try! I happen to be a rather top notch waterbender." Her confidence shines through that smile, so full of life, without an ounce of fear or reluctance. He tries not to be persuaded.

"Top notch or not, if something cannot be taught, it cannot be learnt."

"But that's just cuz you think your pupil is incompetent! I bet I can get it if you show me."

He sighs, already growing tired of her persistence. "I deeply apologize, but it cannot be done."

"Oh cut the crap, Mr. Formal. Just show me, unless it was a one time thing? Scared that you can't repeat it?" She swims up to him in an instant, and jabs him in the chest with her index. His muscles are even harder than she thought, but she knew that he was toned…

He grabs her hand and stares in her eyes menacingly, or at least he tries to. She however doesn't seem threatened, as her lips curve into a smirk. "I get it. You can't do it again," she says, tone full of pity.

"Do not mock my skill." His smooth commanding voice sends chills down her spine, but it's surprisingly enjoyable rather than scary. He was really fun to provoke, like playing with fire and Korra was an expert at that.

"So if you can do it again, then what's the problem?"

"The _problem _is that it remains a pointless endeavour. It takes years of practice to achieve such a high level of control, and regardless of your raw talent, one night will not suffice." He's not just trying to get rid of her; he's being honest. It took him years to master his technique and even he had been a prodigy.

"Alright, I understand." She averts her gaze, and he releases her hand, relaxing only for a second before she mutters rather audibly, "You're just not man enough to show me."

He flares in anger, the surrounding ripples elevating into waves. "_What _did you just say?"

"I _said_," she flashes another insidious smirk, "that you're not _man _enough to show me!"

She pokes him once more in the chest, which really sets him off since the waves increase in height. Their eyes may be blue, but they both crackle like red sparks: hers with determination, and his from frustration. She was trying to get under his skin, he could tell by her persistence; maybe this would be a good chance to put her in her place.

He however quickly recovers from the flair of emotion. He had no authority over this cocky girl, and he somehow knew that she would never back down, no matter how compelling his arguments could be. Mere words wouldn't work on this avatar, so he would simply have to convince her through a different method. The ocean subsides to its calm blanket.

"Alright, _Korra_." He leans into her ear, in an effort to appear intimidating. "Let's see if you can prove me wrong."

She shudders but she isn't the least bit afraid. "YESSS!" she cries out, and he pulls away in surprise. She however tugs him into a friendly hug, giving a rather masculine slap on his back. "You just wait and see! Thank you _so _much for this chance!"

Was she ever taught proper etiquette towards her elders? Did she realize he was more than twice her age? He supposes that it's the least of his troubles, continually reminding himself that going with the flow didn't have to be painful. One should never resist a strong current, or in his case, the power of a stubborn Water Tribe girl.

* * *

Darkness invades the sky as they journey back to Aang Memorial, with only the stars and crescent moon lighting their way like beacons in the distance. They move in silence, no words are needed when the ocean hums its soothing waves, ushering them in a peaceful ride that ploughs forward at their command. As the tension in his body subsides, his mind also drifts and it becomes increasingly easy for him to forget the guilt, the shame, the sin.

Republic City soon comes into view with its hazy illuminated form, a smudgy bright mass polluting the natural crisp black backdrop. And within a few minutes, they finally reach their destination, the lone island in honour of the late avatar.

"Somehow, that took way less time than before… and I didn't even break a sweat," Korra announces as they land on the ground, bending away the water from her drenched clothes.

"The moon works wonders, even when she's not completely full," he dully notes, too concentrated on finding his tunic that he had once discarded. He is about to give up since it was difficult to search in the relative darkness, but he soon spots it neatly folded at the foot of the steps that lead up to the museum— he always remembered where he placed things, how could he have forgotten? The night seemed to be doing tricks on his normally sharp memory.

The piece of garment straightens as he holds it up, but quickly bunches as he pulls it over his head. It strangely catches her attention, as she then watches the fabric drape down over his chest like closing the curtains to a particularly good show. He rolls up the long sleeves, exposing those defined forearms that she had not noticed prior, probably due to the confusion of their fight, but also from the distractions of the rest of his bare torso— the modest ripples of his abs, the fine angle of his shoulders, the perfect posture of his back. The forearms now simply stood out since the rest was hidden, and she observes the subtle movement in his muscles as he clenches his hand into a fist, her eyes following the distinct lines of his veins that protrude lightly from the surface of his rough skin.

"Since you speak so highly of your abilities, I will demonstrate the entire sequence, no pauses in between so pay close attention."

"Gotcha, _Sifu_…" She waits for him to supply a name, but he looks at her with clueless eyes. "I didn't catch your name."

He doesn't respond immediately, hesitating for a moment until he finally answers tonelessly. "Noa."

She smirks, happy to be acquainted. "Alright, _Sifu _Noa. Ready when you are."

He sighs once more. It's really been too long since he could give his real name— or part of it anyways— and hear it echo back from the lips of another. And in this case, the soft-looking lips of none other than the most powerful bender, the Avatar herself. He must be crazy for agreeing to teach her some of his technique, like feeding knowledge to the enemy, but her genuine enthusiasm nevertheless amuses him and he pushes the consequences aside.

"The first step is to place a bead of water in your palm. The goal is to let it grow by collecting the surrounding moisture, until it forms a thick stream."

He folds the top phalanges of his fingers and produces the drop of water in his palm out of thin air. She frowns because he didn't quite explain how he had done _that_, but it reminds her of the way she expels fire. She attempts it, only to let out a flaming spark and a violent curse under her breath.

"Water does not come from desire or from sheer _will_. It instead surrounds us quite literally, taking up more than half of the human body's composition. Simply concentrate on where that water is located, and let it surface naturally."

She tries again, but a hot spark once again ignites. Letting out a grunt of frustration, she simply spits on her hand. There. She has her bead of water.

He snorts, stifling a chuckle. "The Avatar graces us with her wit."

"Deal with it."

But her confidence quickly wavers when he begins to move; she tries not to get completely entranced or intimidated by its fluidity. The slow pace allows her to easily catch every detail of the forms, and before getting too distracted by the beauty, she dives into action, mimicking every refined step of this complex dance.

He is impressed that she's faring well with the physical side of the exercise, not that it should come as a surprise given her status. Her movements may not be as graceful as his, but she performs them nonetheless with great intuition, nearly anticipating the steps that follow, and he sees that as a sign to raise the bar. The patterns become more intricate, but she proves her worth by keeping up with the pace. He really shouldn't underestimate her.

The water in their palms grows naturally, drawn by the energy of their movements. But this is normal bending; the sensation was not any different from what she was used to. She realizes that they were simply warming up since the sequence now hits its point of repetition, reverting back to the first step and moving towards a second full round.

"Concentrate on the image of your surroundings, particularly on the sources of water. Register them in your mind."

She follows his instructions, taking a blurred photograph of the scene.

"Now, close your eyes."

Shutting off one of her senses never was a good idea, but she trusts him just this once.

"Can you see every shimmering bead the moonlight reflects upon the surface?"

Not really. In truth, her mental image wasn't that clear, but she sloppily sketches the added details in her mind.

"Watch the glowing droplets rise from the ripples, and imagine them float in the air, forming a mist that rushes to your palm."

He continues to supply vivid descriptions of their water-filled environment, so she finally manages to concoct the image quite clearly. His deep voice helps her concentrate since there was no way one could drift from its commands, and his instructions were rather easy to follow. She finds herself immersed in the activity while her body flows on instinct.

"The surface of the water sways with more vigor, can you feel its growing strength drawn to your life force?"

She actually can, surprising even herself. But she isn't sure if it's from the effects of the moon, or whether it was his chi tampering with the intensity that boils in her blood, like some foreign energy melding into her skin. She suspects that it's from him since she had once felt suffocated by the attraction, and it was a feeling that she could never forget. Either that, or it was a mix of the three.

"Harden your mind and firmly record the memory, not only the image, but also the sensations. You may open your eyes."

With mild reluctance, her lids flutter open and immediately widen in shock: the sea was bowing before them, with droplets rising above the surface like rain showering from the ground up, dancing to the beats of their movements as if possessed by a spirit. It was both beautiful yet frightening.

She was happy to have accomplished this feat, but she felt slightly unnerved knowing that such power held great responsibility. She was the Avatar so of course she already carried the burden, but who was Noa? Did he use this power on a regular basis? Who did he learn all of this from?

His smooth voice however cuts her thoughts. "Now for the difficult part. Letting it recede."

Concentrating on the task at hand, she quickly buries the questions that had momentarily sprung in her mind. Reversing their work proved to be even more exerting, like lowering a heavy anvil a fraction of an inch over a drawn-out period. She almost could not keep up because she wasn't patient enough handle the slow grueling process— after all, she usually relied on the rush of adrenaline which held no advantage in such a situation. But he intervened, gently letting the water fall back to its original place, and saving her from the exhausting labour. She could feel his life force connect with hers, as if he was guiding her muscles to perform the task, keeping her steady when she was ready to collapse from the pressure.

As the sea is finally put to rest, the two are left panting, drenched in sweat or remnants of the once dense moisture. She falls to the ground, arms and legs outstretched, staring at the crescent moon above. "T-t-that… was… amazing."

"For once, I agree." And he smiles, genuinely, for the first time in a really long time. The light is dim, but she can feel its radiance and she returns the gesture.

She exhales loudly. "Bending really is the best thing in the world!"

And the moment of temporary elation vanishes. He deadpans, the smile dropping from his face. "It is not," he says coldly.

"Wait, what?" She rises to a sitting position, turning to face his now rigid body.

He can feel her inquisitive glare on his back, the tempo of her heart picking up like wildfire, but he firmly stands his ground. "_Bending_ is not even _close _to the greatest things this world has to offer."

"Okay fine, Mr. Uptight. Tell me what's better than bending."

He finally turns to meet her gaze. "Shouldn't that be obvious, _Avatar_? Equality, world peace, justice, camaraderie—

"Alright, alright. I see what you mean and I agree. But _camaraderie_? Does _love_ not exist in that robotic speech of yours?" She chuckles mockingly but he treats the question as rhetorical, clearly not amused. "Anyways, so let me amend my statement: bending really is the best _sensation _for the _human body_. Happy now?"

"Hardly."

"For Spirit's sake, after what we just _experienced_… how can you wave that off and treat that as _nothing_?"

"I am not dismissing it. It is certainly powerful, but it is simply not the _best _sensation. You do not need bending to please the body."

"Okay…I know the body can be pleased other ways like with food, sleep and so on, but bending is like pouring your soul out. It's just so natural, liberating, and the coolest thing ever."

"While it is certainly a release, there is better."

"Oh yeah, ol' man? I don't believe you."

His eye twitches at her jab, and he _really _wants to put her in her place. "Close your eyes."

"Why?"

"_Korra_—

"You kindda sound like my dad when you say my name like that."

"Just close your damn eyes!"

She finally does as she is told, snickering at the fact that she managed to get him to speak so informally. The smile however quickly fades at the built-up tension of his slow footsteps, realizing that this was a man that could bend an ocean at his will— what else was he capable of doing with that killer concentration and refined dexterity? She shudders at the anticipation.

Warmth is pressed on the back of her neck as his large palm lies flat in the center, thumb and index spread wide apart while applying light pressure to the curve, but mostly staying passively in place. His other hand reaches for her belly, resting the tip of his fingers a few inches below the navel, but not straying any lower that would make the position inappropriate.

She nevertheless breathes nervously. "V-v-venture any _lower _and you'll regret being male."

He chuckles, deep rumbles that leave her further on edge. He doesn't comment on the threat because he has no intention of wandering below her waist, but when she fidgets uncomfortably, he leans into her ear. "_Relax_."

Her heart races. That is one command that she cannot obey, and she has the feeling that he was being sarcastic about it anyways. Indeed she was right, but he doesn't give her the satisfaction: he knows that it was impossible to relax since these pressure points were meant to stimulate. She will just have to see from experience since that was the only way naughty girls would ever learn.

His hands do not perform any intricate feat of dexterity, but there is extreme precision and timing with his subtle movements. She doesn't notice his mastery, but she certainly admits that he is doing _something _extraordinary because she wants to flail and scream from the pent-up energy that rapidly builds up. Heat courses through her veins, leaving a raging fire of excitement in its wake, all from the relatively _static _contact of his hands against her flesh. It was such a paradox.

"_Korra_," he whispers into her ear. "Are we _relaxed_?" The sarcasm is almost palpable. She doesn't trust the state of her voice to respond verbally, so she remains silent and instead breathes headily, suddenly becoming aware of a scent that she had not caught before— the musk of a man.

The pressure of his touch becomes more noticeable when he starts to massage the areas more openly, adding more fuel to her raging hormones. The rough pad of his thumb rubs against the smooth surface of her nape, yet the fire rushes down her spine and into that lower region where she forbade him to venture. It seems to be bubbling, reaching a point of overflow as she can no longer control her muscles that physically quiver from the pleasure.

And just as she is about to admit that the tension felt so good that she wanted _more_, he suddenly stops, releasing the pressure points anti-climatically.

She groans loudly, nearly spitting fire from her tongue. "What in the flying bison did you just _do_?"

"There is more to the body than bending. Was it satisfactory?"

It had felt amazing, but she wasn't going to admit it now that he had stopped.

"Hardly."

From the sight of her frustrated pout, to the blood that he can hear pulsing in her nether regions, he knows that she is lying and he regains his good mood. To see her so flustered and stubbornly _deny _it, it was almost cu— no, he will not finish that thought. He just smirks knowingly, causing her to feel all the more infuriated.

She can't seem to shake off the heat, particularly between her legs, but she quickly decides on the solution: bending. Whenever she felt riled up, releasing her emotions through the elements was always a decent cure. He was so full of shit; bending _is _the best thing for the human body.

"Let's spar. My three elements against your water."

He raises a brow at the sudden challenge. "Now, that doesn't sound too fair."

"It is," she says seriously, "because you're a master."

"I'm flattered. But what if I don't have the energies to spar?"

She punches a fist in her other hand. "Then I'll beat you to a pulp."

"How terrifying. If I may, why do you suddenly ask to fight?"

"Cuz I want to." She can't possibly say that she's horny and needs a release.

"And what the Avatar wants, she will always get," he comments airily to himself.

"Correction: what _Korra _wants, she will always _take_."

"Just be sure to know _exactly_ what it is that you want, _Korra_."

A deep flush reddens her cheeks, but she hides it with the flaming punch that she sends towards his smug face.

* * *

**A/N:** I just wanted to let people know that this story is meant to be a character study, and therefore has little (or no) plot, so I hope it doesn't dissapoint for those expecting more! I need to get a feel of Amorra before diving into my other fic ideas.

I'm also still figuring out Noatak/Amon; he's really hard to write! Actually, if it was just Amon, he would be simple..but the Noatak factor is tough because he didn't get much airtime, and there's a lot of 'reading between the lines' for his personality and the way he would act. Any constructive crit is very much appreciated, or if you'd like to share your thoughts on Noatak, feel free to comment or PM me. Thanks for reading~


	3. Part 3

**[NORTHERN LIGHTS]** part 3

_"Comme une pluie dans tes yeux."_

* * *

Time slows down in the split second that it takes for him to evade the fire that nearly singes his eyebrows, and within that suspended moment, he relives a memory that is not truly his. The heat lingering on his unblemished skin reminds him of the awful burns that erupted into heavy scars, those deep paths that would one day pave his quest for equality. But as the blaze clears from his vision and he meets the gaze of her deep blue eyes, he remembers that he is _not _Amon and that the source of his suffering was instead rooted in its polar opposite, in the blistering cold of the North, from the frozen heart of a ruthless ex-waterbender.

She pivots into a roundhouse kick with her heel lit like a torch, and he easily parries once again with a swift sidestep, not even bothering to extinguish the danger with the water at his disposal. It had become second nature to never rely on bending, and his defensive fighting style seemed to rile her up because she could never land a hit.

"Fight back, you coward!" she growls impatiently.

He chuckles coolly. "Only when you give me reason to do so."

The ground beneath his firm stance rumbles as the earth shoots up to destabilize him. She then mixes fire and water, sending a barrage of attacks from both sides, giving him little room for escape. But he still manages to dodge without the use of bending, jumping in the air with an elegant flip, and she cries once more out of frustration.

It felt like trying to swat a particularly annoying mosquito-fly that was too fast for her reflexes. No matter how many creative strikes she shot, he always seemed ten steps ahead of her and knew exactly where she would hit. The fire in her gut simply did not go away; she was expelling a lot of energy and yet the heat remained strong as ever. She could practically still feel his fingers on her nape and below her navel, building up the pressure that she so desperately wanted to release.

"Having fun?" he asks jokingly.

"Bite me, you asshole. We're not even sparring properly!" She shoots a jet of water that he swiftly dodges. "You won't even bend the water I'm throwing at you!"

"Watch your language or else I might just bite." He sneaks behind her like a shadow, and rubs the pressure point on her nape, as if to mock her poor defenses. "I told you before, _bending _is not everything."

She lets out a grunt-moan, some bizarre sound of fury and pleasure as he releases his grip. "That's not what you said."

"Oh?"

"You _said_," she tries to punch him but only meets air, "that you don't need bending to please the body."

"And would you agree?"

Fire erupts from her palm, aiming for his irritating face. "Never!"

"So you _are _having fun." He evades the attack, ducking with his hands behind his back. "Is this the _absolute _height of pleasure? The _best _thing in the world?

"Can it, old man!"

"I am simply asking a question, _little miss_."

"And I'm telling you to _shut up_." The ground creases from the earth she bends, and he staggers momentarily before quickly regaining balance.

"I'm impressed, you almost made me lose my footing. Bending sure is the _greatest_. Doesn't it solve _all _the problems?"

It's like he could read her mind and knew the exact words that would further her aggravation. She was growing tired of pouring out her soul through the elements, and receiving no satisfaction from the act. As she blasts more water and fire in a violent fit, the persisting heat coursing through her veins simply refuses to go away. She begrudgingly admits: bending was failing her.

"_Korra_, I'm still waiting for your response."

She wants to pummel his face, to beat away that insidious smirk, but she is too tired of repeating the actions that yielded no results. Her fists drop to her sides, head downcast to hide her sullen expression.

"Are you okay?" he asks, not quite sounding completely sincere. He carelessly approaches her, reaching out for her chin.

She swats his hand away. "Don't touch me."

"With that attitude of yours, it's no wonder that you think bending and fighting are the only solutions to everything—

"Shut up," she mumbles, still avoiding eye contact.

He stands right in front of her at an intimate distance, completely vulnerable to any of her attacks, and yet she doesn't bother taking advantage of the opening because she knows that it wouldn't stop the taunts or the heat. There must be another way.

"But I must commend you. Even though I dodged every one of your attacks, you certainly proved to be a _master _of evasion for the questions that were thrown."

Her fist clenches, ready to spring back into action despite trying to patiently _think _of a solution— who was she kidding, her temperament wouldn't change just because she willed it, so she finds herself on the brink of acting on stupid impulse. Her mind slowly drifts further away from rational thought as she is consumed with the pressing urge of simply getting him to _shut up_.

"I suppose the Avatar is wise in all areas of expertise, both physically and mentally. Though, I'm beginning to doubt the former. Aside from that one earthbending move, it's a real shame that the _Avatar _wasn't even able to lay a fin—

She grabs the collar of his tunic and forces his head down onto her lips, smashing him into silence and effectively shutting his trap. Their teeth clatter clumsily upon impact, almost chipping as she fights her way into his mouth, taming that infuriating tongue that she so desperately wants to bite off. Her fingers claw at his neck and travel upwards to rake into his scalp, grabbing fistfuls of coarse hair like hanging onto reins when he tries to jerk away. He certainly has to take back his comment; the Avatar was now winning the battle and there was no chance of escape, especially with her body now pressing against his, those soft breasts massaging into his toned chest. He feels a devious desire overcome his spirit, much like the sinful release from bending, and he soon eases into her, allowing his hands to rest on her beautiful back to pull her in closer.

There were many things that Noatak could anticipate for the night, but kissing the Avatar was not one of them. He knew that she was sexually frustrated by the sound of her blood, and he had stimulated those pressure points to teach her a lesson. But never in a million reincarnations did he think that she would use _him _as her release. Nor did he ever think that he would enjoy such an activity with the enemy that haunted him from the moment his father sealed his fate.

She tastes raw and immature, with a dash of uncertainty despite her initial confidence. He notices this when the adrenaline dies down and her movements remain just as sloppy, her tongue lashing out like a prodigious bender without any discipline. Still holding the small of her back, but moving his other hand to cup the side of her face, he asserts his age by guiding her rough childish movements into graceful licks and controlled pacing. He loses himself somewhat as he strokes the soft skin of her cheek, letting the strands of her hair brush against his fingers that unconsciously fiddle with the nostalgic hairclip. It reminds him that she is, at the very basis, a Water Tribe girl, just like the ones he may have chased long ago. He is simply making up for his teenage years that were denied to him, those frivolous moments that he did not have the luxury of experiencing.

Needing air, she breaks away to give her bruised lips a rest, but she doesn't let go of her firm grip on his hair. Nose to nose, amidst the warmth of their intermingled breath, their hazy sight makes contact for a brief second before the fog abruptly clears, eyes widening in panic. Reality comes crashing down in the form of a violent headbutt to his forehead; her shrill cry rings in his ears as he staggers back from the unexpected blow.

He grunts, rubbing the sore spot that quickly blossoms into a red dot in the center. "Explain yourself, _Avatar_."

She looks just as confused, staring blankly into the distance. "I kissed you."

"Thank you for the reminder."

"You just wouldn't shut up and I kind of lost it…It's… It's all _your _fault!" The fire of emotion quickly returns to her eyes, and she does not hesitate to disclose the bane of her temporary insanity. "This _stupid _heat in my body just wouldn't go away. It's driving me nuts like I can't even control myself, and even after all that bending, I'm not feeling the least bit satisfied… I have no idea what to do anymore!"

Despite also feeling shaken up by the ordeal, he forces himself to appear unfazed. "It'll wear off, eventually."

She sinks to the ground, her spirit rather defeated even after her supposed victory. "Yeah, but the feeling really sucks and I hate… waiting without doing anything about it."

"You don't have any other options. So be patient, and it will disappear by tomorrow morning."

"Tomorrow _morning!_? Spirits, I can't wait that long!"

"Like I said, your options are limited. You don't have a choice."

She considers his words only for a brief moment before realisation hits, her face brightening with hope. "But I do! _You _did this to me. So you can surely reverse your work!"

"No, I cannot."

"Oh c'mon, Noa. I know you can. You just don't _want _to help me."

"Do you realise what you are asking of me?"

"Umm.. yes? I'm asking you to reverse what you did. I don't care how it's done, just get rid of this annoying feeling!"

He can't believe her naivety. Did she not suspect at all what this 'heat' was? Or maybe she did and was just being coy, considering she had just viciously made out with him. "You don't care _how _it's done? You want me to… _solve _your problem?"

"You already know my answer. So, can you do it or not?"

He sighs heavily, completely baffled at where this could lead. That damn 'kiss' certainly piqued his curiosity, and it was not everyday that he could hold such a strong-spirited young Water Tribe girl in his arms. "I can…"

"Great! So get to work!"

"… but it isn't right."

"Look, does my face seem like it gives a pigeon-rat's ass?" She stares at him, challenging and dead serious.

He remains silent. This girl simply never took 'no' for an answer. It wasn't too late to make a sneaky escape, jumping in the water and hoping that she would not follow him again, but another side of him craved to stay in her company, only for this night.

"Fine," he admits defeat, choosing flow over flight, desire over reason. "I will teach you the powers of a non-bender."

"Pffft, show me what you got, _Sifu _Noa."

She takes a stand, but closes her eyes since she expects the same treatment as last time. His footsteps are reluctant at first, and she thinks that he might cower, but her doubt washes away when she feels his approaching presence through the faint scent of his distinctively masculine skin. A thumb gently brushes aside her bangs, lingering over the center of her forehead, and she wonders if there was an important pressure point in that area, perhaps something that would officially quell the heat. She hears him sigh once more, sounding a bit like an exhale of guilt, and his hand travels to the side of her face to cup her cheek in the same manner as before. With fingertips behind her earlobe and the rough pad of his thumb stroking along her jawline, she is surprised by the intimacy, but does not question his methods despite the heat that seems to be rising instead of diminishing.

He leans in, but does not claim her lips right away. Instead, he grazes his nose against hers, warm sharp breath tickling her skin and leaving more excitement in its wake. She is tempted to open her eyes, or maybe voice a complaint because the anticipation was stifling and she hated waiting, especially when she did not even know what to expect. But the words remained trapped in her throat as he closes the little distance between their lips, pressing tenderly like a sensual massage. This is probably how a first kiss should feel, not like the previous struggle for dominance, and as he slides an experienced tongue into her mouth, she releases an enticing moan that urges him to continue. However, upon hearing herself make such an embarrassing noise, she comes to her senses and realises that, for the second time, she was kissing Noa with dubious consent.

Pushing him away, she gasps for air, head down and not meeting his eye.

"What's wrong?" he asks, genuinely confused by the sudden rejection.

"What's _wrong_?" she yells, looking up rather affronted. "You were _kissing _me again!"

"And…?"

"And… that's…not what I… Y-y-you were _supposed _to get rid of the heat! Not, _kiss _me like a _lover_."

"I thought that you'd appreciate a little intimacy. But if you prefer it rough and straight to the point, by all means, I can change my ways of handling you."

"Wait. What are we even talking about?"

"Isn't that obvious?" When she doesn't answer, he realises that she is truly naive. "Sex."

Her brows hit her hairline, eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets. "WHAT?"

"So you really _don't _understand what that persistent heat is," he says to himself. She is still too shocked to respond, and he is pretty sure her face is beet red, despite the blue tint from the moonlight. "Avatar Korra, you amaze me, truly. Your little knowledge of the human body has surpassed the limits of even your high-esteemed predecessors."

She trips over her words, sputtering nonsensical syllables, but finally manages to form a coherent sentence. "O-okay, I _knew _that my body was..ummm.. h-horny… but I _thought _you had a different method to solve the problem…like pressure points or something, okay?"

In truth, he was also embarrassed, feeling somewhat of a creep for having put the moves on a girl less than half his age. "I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"For instigating inappropriate behaviour? For _imposing _intimacy on you?"

"Well, now that I think about it, I _did _lead you on. So I guess we're even." She sighs, feeling a bit depressed for reasons unknown. It had felt so good, but she panicked and was now left with bitter regret. She didn't want their night to end like this. "Hey Noa, did you…umm… enjoy kissing me?"

His head hangs in disbelief, surprised that she would continue such an awkward topic, but strangely elated that she would question further. "You are, by far, the most unromantic girl I have ever met." Her brows crease into a frown. "But it felt very nice, so yes, it was enjoyable."

"Would you do it again?" she asks, suspiciously casual.

It's his turn to frown. "Are you leading me on?"

"Answer my question."

"Answer mine first."

"No, _I _asked first," she insists.

"I'm aware. But my response depends on yours."

"Well, you're not getting it."

"Then our conversation ends here." He turns his back, already taking a few steps away, and she feels a jolt, a sudden urge to pin him down.

She reaches out her hand, wishing to grab that broad shoulder. "Hang on, don't leave."

He stops in his tracks. "So answer my question: are you leading me on?"

Scratching the back of her head, she looks to the sky before the embarrassing reply slips from her lips. "If I said yes, what would you do?"

"I would also say yes to your question."

"So that means…you would kiss me again?"

"Only to teach you a lesson for being a tease."

"And if I wasn't teasing, would you do it anyways?"

He chuckles, turning to face her, with eyes glinting dangerously. "For someone who is so direct, you're really beating around the bush. Tell me what you want, _Korra_."

"Another kiss."

He approaches her with deliberate drawn-out steps. "Is that all?"

"No, it's not. I also want sex."

His jaw nearly drops from the blunt statement. If she had been forward before, this definitely ploughed into him below the belt. Their conversation was certainly leading in that direction, but he didn't think that she would admit it so fast, breaking the tension he was trying to build and getting straight to the point. He kind of resented her for foiling his plans. "That's.. certainly not romantic poetry, but you do have a way with words."

"Is that a compliment?"

"The closest I'll ever give you."

"Wow, you're really hopeless when it comes to being nice."

Leaning into her ear, he whispers tauntingly. "At least I have class."

The smooth timbre distracts all coherent thoughts, but she manages to mutter a feeble reply. "Just shut up."

"It'll be my pleasure."

And for the third time that night, he drowns her into a passionate kiss, claiming her lips more aggressively than their last session, but certainly more controlled than the first. Cradling her face gently with one hand, he however grows bolder with the other, searching for the bottom hem of her shirt and slipping inside to feel the smooth expanse of her flat stomach, those hard abs reminding him that this was a girl with stamina. He revels in the soft texture of her lips and the spice of her tongue, flicking like fire in his mouth, but he wants to explore more, so he doesn't hesitate to tear away from the traditional kiss with a final sensuous bite of her lower lip. She shivers in delight, the heat building fast in her groin.

Her scent is weaved with the threads of unknown adventure and homely warmth, a feeling of comfort that's unsettling and unfamiliar, yet strangely welcoming. He breathes it in from the crook of her neck that he samples with gusto, sucking and nibbling on the delicate surface, but the tight collar of her shirt seems to interfere with the best spots of this erogenous zone. Both of his hands therefore meet her waist, daringly pulling the fabric up to reveal more of the Avatar's secrets.

"Raise your arms," he whispers into her ear, nipping tenderly on the lobe.

She slowly complies and the piece of garment is lifted over her head, quickly slipping from his grasp as he immediately gets to work on the bindings around her chest. They unravel with ease, and the open air chills her skin only for a fleeting moment before his large palm graces her with heat that matches her inner desire. It embarrasses her somewhat to be this exposed, especially under the scrutiny of this divine man along with the Spirit of the moon watching from above, but her pride was a fair trade for the satisfaction of her lust.

Her breasts are supple like the water he bends, just as forbidden and perhaps even more sinful. His arousal hardens as he begins to indulge, and although he is making up for loss teenage years, he no longer remains the inexperienced youth he once was; his stamina will not falter, despite the perfection of her curves that bend at his command.

"Beautiful," he breathes into her dark skin, nose deep into the valley of her chest.

"So you _can _be nice when you want."

"Nice? Don't speak too soon." His tongue circles around her left nipple, and she yelps when he bites down harshly.

"Oww, what was _that _for?" she asks, confused by the strangely arousing pain. She certainly had a lot to learn about her own body, particularly about the so-called 'powers' of the non-bender.

He doesn't respond since his mouth remains preoccupied, vigorously fondling the sensitive nub with teeth and tongue, but the answer to her question becomes self-explanatory when she starts to feel light-headed from the pleasure. The dim setting appears even more blurred through the unfocused lens of her half-lidded vision, and she barely registers their shifting position as he coaxes her already weak knees to gently collapse onto the ground. When her rear meets the hard pavement, she has the premonition that it was going to be a rough night against the rugged stone that now digs into her bare back. But at least it should provide firm support for the rocky road to come.

His skilled dexterity single-handedly unties the knot of her sash while he continues to tease her soft skin with light kisses and unexpected bites, tweaking a nipple with his free hand to receive the reward of her cute moan. She wants to return the favour and hear _him _hiss out embarrassing sounds like the ones escaping her dry throat, but her useless limbs simply flail around at random, finally grasping the hard muscles of his shoulders to cling onto some semblance of balance. He chuckles, thoroughly pleased to see the drastic change of the once-cocky girl he first met, and highly stimulated by the power of taming such a wild temper. She relishes the baritone rumbling, taking notice of the distinct lump of his Adam's apple that bobs against the swell of her chest, like the symbols of man and woman colliding into temptation.

Brushing off the pelt from her hips, he grows eager to dip in even deeper, dangerous waters, but his fingers inadvertently linger on the nostalgic fur and he mentally freezes. His thoughts spiral into the whirlpool of his bitter past— of white perpetual snow expanding into the barren landscape, of cold long nights huddled next to his coddled little brother, of arduous 'hunting trips' tainted with the horrible truth that would shape him for the worst... He can't control the blaring flashes of unwanted memories that consume his mind and blind his sight, nor can he stop the troubling emotions that spread into his boiling blood, causing his fist to clench and his throat to tighten as he stifles a cry of frustration.

Lost in the nightmare of remembrance, he uses the vulnerable body at his disposal to relieve his stress. Short nails dig into tender flesh that winces from the sudden outburst; it's not enough to wake her from the lusty daze, but it certainly puts her on edge as the adrenaline rushes from the accelerating pace. He strips down her pants with a forceful tug, the fabric bundling around her ankles like cuffs that restrict her movement. It feels disconcerting, so she attempts to kick off her boots and wriggle out of the confinement, but he obnoxiously decides to take a seat, right on her restless legs that go numb from the weight of his dense muscles.

He reaches for her pelvis with toe-curling anticipation and she assumes that he will be gentle since he slowly assesses the damp undergarment like a blind man gauging his surroundings with light touches. She finally realises that his eyes are in fact closed, his brows forming a knit frown that she doesn't quite understand. Despite her pounding heart beat, she relaxes and ignores the odd swing in his behaviour. But at the ripping sound of cotton fibres, she bucks her hips, gasping in shock as the last barrier guarding her modesty is viciously torn off and unceremoniously tossed aside like a fallen soldier. He said that he had class; what a liar.

She sits up on instinct, but his reflexes respond just as quickly, grabbing both of her wrists with one fluid motion of his left hand, and effortlessly pinning her back onto the ground. The rough pavement scrapes her skin as she is twisted around, her breasts now rubbing against the dirt like a bowing wolf-dog, like the ones he used to control for mere practise, and she flinches at the bruising grip that gropes her firm ass. There was no point of trying to shake him off—heck, she could overpower him with earthbending at any given point— but she remains deviously curious and extremely aroused despite the discomfort.

His impatient fingers slip into the crevasse of her buttocks, immediately sinking deeper and lower until he feels the distinct moisture of her opening, but in his mind, he is simply manipulating water with his pre-mature child hands, letting the wetness trail along his digits, manoeuvring with deadly precision to whip at a potential enemy— she moans in pleasure as the sensitive bud of her clit nearly _bends_ from his fervent strokes. Her breaths are heavy and ragged, but he only hears the harsh tones of his father, the unfair scolding inflicted upon his poor baby brother that could never meet the impossibly high expectations. The memories anger him. He thought that they were permanently buried, but they seemed to be popping from their graves, and he berates himself for being so weak. He would just have to force the skeletons back where they belonged.

She's soaked to the brim and wants to take on more, rocking her hips to suggest what she desired. He hardly notices the hints because he simply wants to beat down the haunting skulls of his past, and that is exactly what he does: three of his fingers brusquely shove into her, pushing against the tight folds to force his entry. She cries out in pain, and it's his brother's voice that he hears, the choked scream of a pitiful kid seized in panic by the blood in his veins attacking from the inside. The memory must die. Digging mercilessly, going below six feet under to make sure the bones never resurface, he ignores her thrashing body that rejects the brutal invasion. She knew that he wasn't going to be nice, but this was going beyond her limits.

Letting out a piercing scream, one that could reach the moon, she calls out his name with the little energy that she has left.

"NOA! STOP!"

…_Noa…tak…_

His eyes shoot open and he releases her. The graveyard is nowhere in sight, the nightmare successfully vanished, but he is left with the harsh reality of a tear-stained girl trembling under his equally shaken limbs.

* * *

**A/N:** Hope you enjoyed the erotica? o_0 That last bit was probably a buzzkill, sorry! Noatak just has to overcome his future and past...to finally be able to enjoy the present...so yeah, we'll get him naked next chapter, I promise. ^_^


	4. Part 4

**[NORTHERN LIGHTS]** part 4

_Translation: "Like rain in your eyes."_

* * *

The air suddenly feels foreign. Looking up and into the distance, he can recognize his surroundings— the slit of Yue's eye in the dark sky, Mo Ce Sea breathing light ripples, Republic City sleeping amidst an amber glow— but it all seems different, more real than ever before, like he was somehow realising the weight of their existence and he felt insignificant in comparison. After all the years of training, all the power he had earned along with the inflated ego of his father's legacy, he amounted to nothing in the end. All humans were small compared to the expansive cosmos, but he didn't even consider himself a grain of sand on this parched land called the world, because even a speck of dirt had a ground in which it could always fall back on, a place to belong and a fundamental purpose. Noatak was empty.

He looks at his hand, catching the sight of blood and moisture glistening on his long fingers. It isn't guilt that settles in, nor disgust at what he had just done. He simply feels vulnerable, weak, since the traces of his brutal actions remind him just how much he isn't in control of his own body and mind when the triggers of his past came to haunt him. Frankly, it scares him. To assume the role of a stoic leader of a revolution, but to be burdened by this volatile reaction, it would cost him severe consequences if his composure slipped even in the least. He has no idea what he would do in such a situation because it was impossible to predict or plan ahead. It would be the key to Amon's downfall.

Her body lies motionless like a broken doll, and a spark ignites in the void known as his heart. Empathy and compassion. Those two concepts never had a place in his cold detached existence, but the sight of her tainted flesh mirrors his fractured psyche and he is compelled to relate with her suffering, as the pain deep within his core persists in the same way that hers throbs physically. In this moment, she was not the all-mighty Avatar, nor was she even Korra, the cheeky Water Tribe brat that ploughed forth without a single hesitation. She was simply a nameless individual, broken, just like him. And for once, he didn't feel alone.

"It really fuckin' hurts."

Even her voice croaks pitifully, and his actions weigh heavily on his conscious. He wants to help, but he only knows of one remedy that fills him with reluctance.

"I'm so stupid," she whispers, lips brushing against the cold ground. "I wanted it. I asked for it. B-but... it's not how I thought it would be..."

She remains passive, still not budging from her awkward position, and he realises that he could not flow to a beat that no longer existed. Flight was neither an option since he finds himself rooted in place, unable to escape, perhaps from the desire of wanting at least one good memory in his string of bitter regrets. It becomes apparent that he is left with only one option: it was the time to take action, to finally fight.

He pulls her lifeless form into his lap, hugging her from behind so that she isn't faced with the look of uncertainty in his eyes. She doesn't fidget or protest from the gentle embrace, but her tensed muscles tell him otherwise; she is obviously uncomfortable and would much rather not be touched, but he perseveres and holds her close.

"I'm sorry," he says, sounding more like a plea than an apology. "I'm the idiot. Forgive me, I beg you."

She remains silent, and he doesn't know how to interpret her hiccupping chest. He assumes that she is too hurt to emit her usual flames— it's really quite disturbing how quiet she is, like she even refuses to breathe in his arms— so he hardens his resolve and succumbs to his last resort.

Physical contact was not required for this type of bending, but his hand meets her belly in a light massage to cover up what he was doing below the surface. Taking a deep breath, his eyes glaze over from the intensity of his mental concentration. He isn't able to repair the ruptured fibers— he can't bring back her virginity— but her muscles immediately relax as he controls the blood in that knotted area, easing the flow and soothing the pain. It wouldn't completely undo the damage, but it was the best that he could offer, and her exhale of relief encourages his spirit. Despite begrudging the method, he had finally done something right, and the reward of her hand resting upon his, squeezing his fingers like a shake of approval, is enough for him to bear the shame.

"I guess non-benders do have special powers," she finally admits, still in a small voice. "The massage you're giving me feels really good. It's making the pain disappear."

It's his turn to stay silent. There wasn't much to be said with the irony of that statement; they had somehow both become the loser of their game.

He slackens his grip over her blood when he feels it circulating soundly, and his fingers knead into the pressure point below her navel to stimulate her nerves, hopefully restoring some of her previous energy. It proves to be somewhat effective as she gains the audacity to kick off her boots and pants, ridding her shackles but leaving her bottom completely bare. She however leans back comfortably into his hard chest, not particularly fazed by her state of undress. He takes that as a sign of partial forgiveness.

"Have you ever resented your power?" he asks.

"What?" She stirs but keeps her gaze on the horizon of Republic City. "Of course _not_. How can I deny being the Avatar?"

"It's a lot of responsibility to bear at such a young age. Didn't it set you apart from your peers?"

She hesitates for a moment, shoulders a little tense. "Not really. I don't really remember a time where I wasn't the avatar, and sure the training was tough at times, but the love and respect from people around me always helped me through any hardship or doubt."

"Love and respect," he echoes. "Sounds nice."

"I guess I didn't have many friends my age," she says as an afterthought. "But Naga was always there, so it didn't matter."

"Naga?"

"My polarbear-dog."

He snorts, holding back a raucous laugh, and she elbows him in the stomach. "Got a problem?" she hisses dangerously, and he knows not to provoke her further.

"Not at all. I just thought Naga would be a mentor or close relative."

"She's my best friend." There's a finality to her tone that leaves no room for questions or comments. "You wouldn't understand."

"On the contrary, I think I do. Animals are honest creatures, not to mention loyal when you've gained their trust. You're lucky to have Naga. Humans will never be as dependable."

"Yup, you can say _that _again," she scoffs, and he is quick to notice the implication.

"I'm sorry."

She turns around to finally face him, glaring deeply in his tired eyes. "Why did you do that?"

"I...don't know."

"How can you not _know_?! One moment you were treating me like a delicate artefact, the next I was howling in pain and you just _continued_."

He tries to look away but she cups his cheek and forces him to meet the hurt in her eyes. "It was really scary. How could you do such a thing? Was it on purpose? To get a rise? To take advantage of my inexperience?!"

Tears trail down her beautiful face and he can no longer stay silent. "No," he answers softly. "That's not it."

"So what _is _it?" She grabs the neck of his shirt, posing as the confident girl she once was. "Tell me, dammit!"

He reaches for her cheek with the intention of drying her tears, but she flinches before he can even make contact. Instead, he bends the droplets away and she looks somewhat surprised by the gesture. His defeated voice rises to speak. "I'm not as strong as one may perceive me to be. I've grown accustomed to wielding this great power, I've trained so hard to control and master it, but it will always remain a heavy burden that requires my full attention.

"Sometimes, I slip. When emotions are too much to bear, the cord holding my sanity snaps in an instant and I forget reality... it just becomes a muddled haze of my thoughts and memories, completely devoid of the feeling of actually _being there_, in the concrete physical sense. I know I may sound crazy, and you have every reason to run away screaming, calling me a monster, but this crushing weight is just too much to handle at times and, despite your attitude on life, I don't always know how to _deal with it._"

The comment quirks her lips, but she lets him continue without interruption.

"Looking back, I think I've been so engrossed in my bending that I failed to master this fundamental part being human, of keeping a sound mind. Because deep down, there are a lot of things that confuse me… I don't understand myself at times… which is why I can't provide you an accurate explanation of my actions. But for the sake of simplicity, I definitely got caught up in the intensity of the moment, my composure faltered, and I didn't realise my own strength."

Her hand lets go of the fabric and slides down to rest on his left pectoral; he feels overly conscious of her palm witnessing every frantic beat of his heart. "I know my words can never take back the cruelty, and it's hardly a valid excuse for the violence, but I can assure you that I am sincere when saying this: I'm sorry."

She finally softens completely, shoulders hunched as she releases a deep sigh. "I guess it _is _my fault for trusting you."

"That's hardly a fault. It's in your nature."

"That may be true for the Avatar, but I usually just trust my gut. I was sceptical of those stupid non-bender ways, so I really should have stuck with my instincts."

His eye twitches. "What I did was certainly deplorable and unforgivable, but it has _nothing _to do with being able to bend or not."

She chuckles sarcastically. "Wow, you're _still _defending that side? You're really stubborn."

"So are you."

"No I'm not."

He smirks. "Yes, you are."

A familiar flame crackles in her eyes. "_No_, I am _not_."

"Your tenacity is proving my point."

"Ugh, you're so _irritating._" She takes a stand and he does the same. "I've never met anyone more annoying in my _life_."

"With polarbear-dogs as my competition, I wouldn't call that a fair win."

She sputters, unable to form a witty response. Instead, she straightens her posture to regain some semblance of confidence, arms akimbo and glaring menacingly. He tries to match her intensity, but his gaze dips lower, and he suddenly realises just how naked she is.

He looks to the sky, trying to divert his attention from those distinct perk buds hardened by the cool air. She seems to notice, as her tone shifts into a playful one. "Something catch your eye?"

"Pardon?" he says, suddenly very fixated on the black expanse.

She leans into him and he stiffens. "What'cha looking at?"

"The sky."

"Is it that interesting?" She presses into him, and another part of him starts to stiffen.

"It's beautiful."

"Oh c'mon, it's not that impressive here in Republic City. It's better in the poles." Her hands meet his waist, fiddling with fabric. "Have you ever been to the Northern Water Tribe?"

He tries to appear unfazed, both at the question and at the fact that she is lifting his tunic, the chill air hitting his lower abs. "A long time ago."

"Their sky is the best," she comments casually, tugging the garment higher until she meets the barrier of his arms. Korra obviously wanted him bare— who was he to deny her humble request— so he complies and discards the rest.

He still keeps his head high, even when she plays with the waistband of his trousers. "What makes it so special over there?" he asks with mild curiosity.

"Northern lights."

She pulls down his pants, teasing the edges of his wrappings that cover his hard groin. He wonders if she is embarrassed in the least, but her bold touches tell him otherwise. He looks to Yue for guidance.

"I don't usually pay attention to nature or beauty in general, but northern lights really struck me when I was a kid, so I guess it has a special place in my heart." She finds the knot binding his undergarment, and slowly unravels it. "My parents brought me to the Northern Water Tribe to visit my extended family for the first time, and I remember being on the outskirts of the main city...It was night and I started to freak out when I saw these weird things in the sky. I thought they were spirits flying in the air!"

He pictures a miniature Korra, with the same hairstyle, just as brash and loud, pointing at the sky and openly expressing her awe with those same wide blue eyes that are likely inspecting his now-bare hips.

"It was just so mysterious and unsettling... I was scared at first because I couldn't understand what was going on, but after a while, I just thought it was so cool and beautiful. I was completely sucked in... kind of like when I saw you bending for the first time," she shyly confesses, and he responds with a smile.

Northern lights. Despite the memories of his childhood, he doesn't mind being associated with such a phenomenon: a fleeting occurrence, shrouded in mystery and reverence, that could enamour even the young Avatar. It may not be concrete like the earth that supports their feet— one could never hold light in their palm— nor did it particularly have a useful function, but it could inspire, and despite its ephemeral nature, it was _something_.

He laughs, amused by the hope she inadvertently instills in his growing heart. "You're a real piece of work."

"Of course. I'm the Avatar."

"No, as a person. As a _woman_." He grabs her in his arms, kissing her neck affectionately.

"So umm... are you going to make it up to me...after what you did?"

"That depends on your mood."

His arousal rubs against her bare body, and he no longer hesitates to coax her back into the 'mood'. She purrs from the soothing touches, but abruptly holds his wrist to stop him from venturing deeper. "Noa, I love where this is going, but it's getting late and I have training tomorrow. I'm really hopeless with airbending, so I should probably...ya know, get some rest for the tough day ahead of me. How about we meet up some other time?"

His smile does not falter, but his eyes twinkle a little sadly. "I'm afraid I'm here for only one night."

"Why? Are you a traveller?"

"Of sorts. I will be fully occupied with... work."

She doesn't question further, probably assuming that he's a sailor or travelling merchant. There's conflict in her eyes, but she presses herself closer to him. "So... I won't ever see you again?"

"The chances are slim." He isn't lying. Amon will upturn her life, but Noatak will forever be buried.

His answer seems to erase all of her inhibitions as she literally jumps at his words. Taking advantage of his bound half-dressed legs, she successfully tackles him to the ground and immediately straddles his waist, leaning in to kiss him full on the mouth. She shoves her tongue into him without regret, expressing all the frustration he had caused her, the lessons she had learned, the pleasures she had experienced, and the sadness of their impending departure.

He breaks away to catch his breath. "W-what about airbending training?"

"I'll deal with it tomorrow." And she clamps her lips onto his once more, apparently favouring his air over the one that surrounds them, the one that she has yet to master. But when it came to him, she was certainly a prodigy, already adept at bending his air.

Despite the intoxication of her lustful tongue, he manages to hold onto a moment of sobriety when his hand reaches for the hairclip of her wolftail. Nostalgia does not flood his conscious— he had enough of those troubling emotions for the night— so he slides it off without further ado, letting the lush strands tumble from the restraint and flow free into his eager fingers. He repeats the action for the remaining two that frame her face, gliding along her jawline with deliberate care, and tucking the wavy locks behind her sensitive ears.

He clutches onto her wrist, his hand travelling up her forearm and descending almost immediately to peel off an armband. She smirks against his lips, and slips the others off, leaving her without a trace of Water Tribe identity, aside from her dark complexion and vivid blue eyes that are currently reduced to slits. He also discards the remainders of his modesty, kicking off his boots and trousers while feeling her hungry leer bore into his skin, which was a bizarre sensation— he had never experienced such a reversal of gender stereotypes.

Rolling against the rugged ground, pebbles and dirt sticking to their slick surface, their bodies clash into one another as they fight for the dominant top position; she tingles in anticipation at every brush of his arousal against her moistening flesh, and he accentuates the feeling by nipping at her sensitive spots until she moans wantonly. But this time, he refuses her to be harmed even in the least, so when he notices the increasing scrapes on her flawless skin, he puts their lust on hold.

"We can't do it here," he whispers.

"_Noa_," she thunders, tone absolutely murderous. "Don't give me more bullshit."

He rushes to explain, not wanting to upset her mood. "The pavement is abrasive for your skin."

"And, I don't care—

"Let's do it on the water," he proposes, already lifting her up.

"_On _the water?"

"Yes."

"That's ridiculous," she barks out, but doesn't stop him from guiding her towards the cliffside. "I know I'm the Avatar and I'm really good at bending, but... doing _it _while keeping the water stable...not sure if that concentration is even possible."

"I can handle it, there's no need to worry."

She snorts derisively, looking at him sceptically. "Yeah, right."

"Are you underestimating me again?"

"No, _not at all_. Just, you know, I don't want you to _lose _it like last time, and then we drown."

He takes that as a challenge. "You cannot _drown _a waterbender."

"Well, at the height of pleasure, you might go unconscious."

"If that were the case, your instincts will kick in. You will _not _drown." He pulls her close when they reach the edge by the water. "And why would I go unconscious?"

"Cuz I'll be that good."

"You're confident."

"Got that right."

He pecks her quickly on the lips, which catches her off guard since she blushes from the affection. "Okay, so if I lose control from the intensity of your _divine _Avatar powers, I will freeze the surface into a solid patch. Deal?"

She looks down at the calm ripples, then up to the excitement in his eyes. "I can't believe we're doing this..."

"Shame you can't airbend. Imagine the possibilities."

* * *

The cool cushion of the sea sways lightly and her body floats to its subtle movement, never sinking, not even when he presses against her with a slow drag of his tongue along the sharp line of her abs, right down to the coast of her wet folds. He grasps the soft flesh of her inner thighs to guide her legs wider apart, then trails a finger back to the precarious edge, skimming the surface with his rough pad like testing the waters before dipping further below. Her hips fidget uncomfortably at the contact, perhaps from the reminder of when his fingers last delved into her, so he pulls back and instead rests his palm over her knee. Clutching onto the sturdy bone for support, he leans into the damp shag that tickles his nose, inhaling the scent of sex and desire as he takes a final deep breath. His tongue dives in to explore her depths.

Each moan that escapes her parched throat fills him with utmost satisfaction, despite the ache starting to form in his neck along with feeling light-headed from the lack of oxygen. The arousal drowns him, and amidst the thrashing madness of her pleasured body, his own selfish needs begin to sprout, especially when she thrusts her pelvis in suggestive ways. His groin grows desperate to match those movements, so he finally breaks away from the open sea, ignoring her groan of disapproval and the fingers that claw into his scalp to push him back down. He cuffs her wrist with a tendril of bended water and pins it to her side; his mouth travels up to her chest, leaving behind a trail of light kisses. Panting against her hot skin, he listens to the rapid tempo of her heart that beats in tandem with his own.

"That's it?" she asks.

"What do you think?" He brushes his erection over her slick folds, and watches the bright blue of her eyes disappear behind her lids. Amused by her reaction, he continues to tease the surface, rubbing against her clit and enjoying every twinge of expression gracing her features.

Her free hand rakes into his hair, grabs a fistful, and viciously tugs until his ear meets her lips. "Do it," she commands, grinding into him and leaving no room for open interpretation.

He doesn't need to be told. Sneaking another whip of bended water to break her grip, he turns to face her, nose to nose, resting his forehead onto hers and staring deeply in her eyes now wide open. Her brows twitch slightly as he begins to push into her, and although the barrier had already been broken, Korra's inexperienced body was still offering resistance, which really doesn't come as a surprise, considering the relentless tenacity she had demonstrated one too many times throughout the night. If she was feeling any discomfort from the tight squeeze, it did not show in her unwavering gaze, but the clutch of her nails digging into his back certainly indicated otherwise, so he slows down his already gentlemanly pace and lifts a leg to further ease the entrance. Staring at his own reflection in the glassy blue mirrors, he counts her eyelashes at every fraction of distance that he breaches.

The moment, in reality lasting only a few seconds, stretches like the expansive sea that surrounds their joining bodies. It is impossible to record every ripple of water, just like he can never count every raised hair on her delicate skin that he soothes with gentle strokes. But the sea will eventually meet its end when the waves hit a border of land. Somewhere between the numbers nineteen and twenty-three, with a blink of an eye that throws off his count, he reaches it. Her limit. Because although the Avatar transcends lifetimes, Korra is foremost human, bound by finite existence. And he touches the point in which she goes no further.

He would have liked to give her more time to adjust to the feeling of wholeness, but the warmth of her tight walls urges him to let his body ride its natural course. Like the waves climbing up shore and meeting their end, he recedes, upturning the sand as he pulls away. Silence lingers amidst their laboured breathing, but when he rams back into her, as deep as he had done prior, she releases a sharp cry that he quickly mutes with a crash of his lips onto hers. His concentration slips and the cuff holding her left wrist melts back into its surroundings; with both hands free, she stakes her claim by drilling her fingers into his sturdy dorsal muscles, attempting to bend his perfect posture.

Even though the dense water is impenetrable, solid enough to support their shifting weight, his most vigorous thrusts chips the surface into rising droplets, reminiscent of the beautiful sight of rain dancing from the ground up. He slams into her and she skids, causing a ricochet of waves that assuredly reach the coast of Republic City. Under the waning darkness, before the crack of dawn, they shake the sea until the pressure can no longer be contained, until his spine curves a fraction off-balance. For a split second, they nearly sink into the cushion now liquid and loose.

The water however freezes, latching onto her ass and setting her in place. Korra's chest rumbles with light chuckles, but he matches the tremors with an increased tempo of his hips, desperate to transform the mocking sound into her pleasured cries. He succeeds. The pace leaves no time to think or even breathe; it suits her personality, since she can only react, thrash and scream. Between the distracting cacophony and the disorientating mist of condensation, from the fire of their bodies to the cracking ice, one coherent word manages to slide pass the chaos.

"NOA!"

The name drives him over the edge. With one last wave that bids farewell to their unforgettable ride, he finally releases. His existence may be ephemeral, but there is nothing more real than the liquid that fills her up, like a fragment that he implants into her body, or a memory forever ingrained in her mind.

"Thank you," he whispers, meeting her eyes dazed with satisfaction.

"For what?"

He pulls her into a meaningful kiss, no tongues struggling for dominance, just lips connecting in peace. The ice supporting their weight melts back into the expanse and they let the water swallow them into darkness as they drop below the surface, away from the sun peeking over the horizon. The tale of this one night meets its final breath under the shadows of thick sea salt, as they fall into the comforting deep blue, bodies fully joined within harmony of their native element, lips never parting.

And as the arms of Mo Ce Sea embrace him again after so many months passed, he subconsciously longs for her touch, reliving the sensation of her soft lips in perfect balance with his. He sinks deeper than ever before until the once comforting surroundings feel disconcertingly cold; his lungs falter when her warmth drifts away entirely, leaving him alone in the abyss of nothingness. His eyes open in alarm. Reacting on instinct, unable to control his power, the water—the extension of his body—bends into a massive spiralling tower that propels him above the surface, right into the colourful sky of the setting sun.

Before hearing the ruckus of the public, reality slaps him back into full consciousness with the cool air hitting the bare skin of his face: he is exposed, feeling as naked as that memorable night, and vulnerable as ever. He frantically looks at the crowd below— he knows that he has lost all credibility— but their glares filled with indignation do not pierce his heart like the silent cry that _her_ eyes shout at him.

He always felt immune to her hatred because whenever she looked at him, she saw Amon, just like he only saw her as the Avatar, never uttering her name, and treating her as a mere obstacle in the grand scheme of his meticulous plan. But now that the barrier of their titles has disappeared like her lost bending and his fake scars, she stares at him, only seeing Noatak, while he returns her gaze, seeing nothing but Korra. And how he had hurt her.

A deep frown creases between his brows as guilt settles in with a heavy weight, collapsing the spiralling tower. He is livid at himself and does not have the right to stand in her presence, but despite his feelings for Korra, he escapes for a reason beyond cowardice. There is something more important that he needs to face, to seek forgiveness.

Decades ago, when he stepped up against his father and ran away from home, the blizzard should have killed him. Moments prior, when he was blasted out of that window and fell into the water, he should have drowned. And yet somehow, fate kept him alive. There was only one thing linking him to this world, the only regret that plagued his underlying thoughts, something—or rather, someone— of whom he could never— should never have— run away from.

As he skids on the water, evading violent flames like being chased by the fiery determination of that cheeky girl during their first encounter, he realises that he has been walking on the wrong path all along. She will never understand him, he will be forever hated, and these words may mean nothing to her, but he says them out loud anyways. "Thank you, Korra."

'_For what?'_ s_he echoes back in his mind._

"For setting me free."

* * *

**A/N:**

Please excuse me while I go tearbend. It's up to you whether this fic follows canon till the end, but just as a heads-up, I found a prompt on the LJ kink meme (v2.0) that would make an excellent sequel… If anyone guesses which prompt I'm referring to, you win the internet. I have lots more to say, but I'll blab about it some other day over on my tumblr page.

THANK YOU FOR READING! AND BEING UBER PATIENT WITH MY SLOW UPDATES! If you got this far, I hope you enjoyed it. ^_^


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